mississippi boys, inner city boys

// I thought of angels choking on their halos //

"Long live business as usual," Danta mutters at that, his feathers evidently still ruffled (mainly because he expects another fight on his hands when he requests Asta to be his taxi ride home) as he sweeps his wet hair out of his face. Examining the rings that adorn his fingers as if to check he hasn't lost any in the fountain, when he glances back at the butcher to see him acquiescing, let it never be said that Danta can't be sweet-talked out of a bad mood.

"Quite right," he mumbles, shifting in the water to snake his arms around the other man's neck so he might piggyback him back to the inn. "Perhaps," he says slowly as he hooks his legs around Asta's waist, "I did provoke you somewhat." The words are mumbled into the crook of the butcher's shoulder, though Asta will doubtlessly feel the start of a smirk curling across his lips. "I'm sorry as well."

Dantalion

// get them drunk on rose water //